smile and cool demeanor had been roped off until further notice。
Now it was Friday; the night of the Kiss on the Lips party。 And the
question she couldn’t answer: to go or not to go?
It used to be; before fancy parties like this; Serena and her friends
would spend half the night getting dressed together—swilling ginand…
tonics; dancing around in their underwear; trying on crazy
outfits。 But tonight Serena rummaged through her closet alone。
There was the pair of jeans with the rip in the leg where she’d
snagged them on a barbed…wire fence in Ridgefield。 There was the
white satin dress she’d worn to the Christmas dance in ninth grade。
Her brother’s old leather jacket。 Her moldy tennis shoes that should
have been thrown out two years ago。 And what was this? A red wool
sweater—Nate’s。 Serena held it to her face and smelled it。 It
smelled like her; not him。
Toward the back of the closet was a black velvet flapper dress that
Serena had bought with Blair at a vintage store。 It was a dress to
wear while drinking and dancing and lounging around decoratively
in a huge house full of people having a good time。 It reminded
Serena of the good…time gal she’d been when she bought the dress
—her old self; the girl she’d been up until two weeks ago。 She let
her robe drop to the floor and slipped the dress on over her head。
Maybe it would give her back some of her power。
Barefoot; she padded into her parents’ dressing room; where they
were getting ready for their own black…tie affair。
“What do you think?” Serena asked; doing a little twirl in front of
them。
“Oh; Serena; you’re not wearing that。 Tell me you’re not;” her
mother exclaimed; fastening a long rope of pearls around her neck。
“What’s wrong with it?” Serena said。
“It’s an old ratty thing;” Mrs。 van der Woodsen told her。 “It’s just the
sort of dress my grandmother was buried in。”
“What’s wrong with one of those outfits you bought with your
mother last weekend?” Mr。 van der Woodsen suggested。 “Didn’t you
buy anything to wear to the party?”